


the ghost of you lingers

by SuburbanSun



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Getting Together, Home, M/M, Pining, Post-Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: Michael agreed to house-sit while Alex was away at an Air Force training. What Alex didn’t anticipate was returning to find traces of Michael everywhere.Alex Manes Week 2020 Day 1: home can be a person
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 66
Kudos: 276





	the ghost of you lingers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Alex Manes Week 2020 Day 1: home can be a person.
> 
> Title from the song of the same name by Spoon.

Alex was bone-tired when he pulled up to his house. His leg ached from hours spent in the same position, and his uniform was starting to chafe. He should have changed clothes before the drive, but he’d been eager to get home after three weeks of Air Force training out of state. 

He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the familiar truck parked in his driveway.

All he had in the backseat was an oversized duffel and his laptop bag, which he shouldered easily, though his steps up the walkway were careful and slow. The door swung open before he could reach for the knob.

“Thought maybe you got lost. Took a wrong turn at Albuquerque or something.” Michael leaned against the doorjamb with a smirk on his face, one hand resting on his hip.

“Well, I was coming home from Texas, so that would have been one _very_ wrong turn,” Alex answered. Michael’s smirk softened into a smile, and after watching him for a moment, he reached forward to take both of Alex’s bags from him. Alex let him. 

“You never know; GPS can really screw you sometimes,” Michael said as they entered the house. He set the bags down by the living room sofa, then turned back to face Alex. “It’s good to have you home.” His smile faltered. “I mean, I bet you’re glad to be home. After all that time in barracks, or wherever they put you up.” 

Alex rounded the sofa to sit down on it, eager to take the pressure off his leg. He looked up at Michael as he massaged his thigh. “I’m definitely glad that’s over. Thanks for watching my place while I was gone. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.” 

Michael shook his head quickly. “It was no trouble. What’re friends for?” 

Alex hummed in response. “You want a beer? Or have you eaten? I could make something,” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Or we could order.” 

“I told Isobel I’d meet her for dinner at the Crashdown, actually,” Michael said. He looked apologetic, though he had no reason to be. Alex already felt like he’d imposed enough, asking Michael to uproot his life for three weeks, and for what— to keep an eye on Alex’s proximity sensors? To water a few plants? The truth was, asking Michael to house-sit had been an idea that occurred to Alex late one night, and he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head until he’d texted him about it, just to see what he’d say. 

Within seconds, he’d texted back, _yes, of course,_ and that was that. 

But Michael hadn’t agreed to stick around after his three-week stint was up. Alex stood, using the arm of the couch for leverage. “Of course. Tell her I said hi.”

Michael smiled. “I will. And you’ll have to tell me all about your trip. Maybe we can grab lunch tomorrow or something?” He looked hopeful, and it made something stutter in Alex’s chest. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” 

He followed Michael to the door and watched as he climbed into his truck with a mock-salute goodbye, watched as he backed out and pulled away. After he could no longer see his tail lights in the distance, Alex shut the door and headed back into his house. 

It felt emptier than it had before he’d left for training.

Which made no sense, really. Alex had lived alone ever since he’d moved back to Roswell— first in the cabin Jim Valenti had left him, and then, once the long drive into town had worn him down, in the house he’d bought on a quiet street not far from downtown. He was used to it. He liked it.

His stomach growled. He headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, knowing he probably didn’t have much that was still edible. Sure enough, it was mostly condiments and expired milk, but he noticed a tupperware on the bottom shelf on the left. He pulled it out and opened it: a simple pasta with fresh tomatoes and parmesan, it looked like. Surely leftovers from something Michael had put together. Alex sniffed it, and the strong scent of garlic made his stomach growl again. 

It wasn’t like Michael was going to come back for it, he figured, and if he did, well, Alex owed him a meal for house-sitting, anyway. He popped it in the microwave, disappearing into his bedroom to change into sweats and a T-shirt in the meantime. 

Once he was comfortable and his hunger sated, he opened the fridge again for a seltzer and spotted a couple of beers tucked behind his cans of La Croix. Michael’s preferred brand. One corner of Alex’s mouth ticked up, and he made a mental note to pick up another six-pack the next time he went to the store, just to have them on hand the next time Michael came over. 

His phone buzzed on the kitchen table, and he swiped to unlock it. A text from Michael:

_Doesn’t this grease stain look kind of like the alien symbols?_

It was accompanied by a photo of what appeared to be the bottom of Michael’s French fry basket, parts of the paper lining darkened with grease. Alex chuckled, and typed back, _I think that roughly translates to: ‘fries are delicious’._

A full minute hadn’t gone by before his phone buzzed again. _So delicious. Eat the leftover pasta in the fridge, by the way. I made it last night so it’s not old or anything._

Alex eyed the empty container in the sink and texted back, _I may or may not have already eaten it. It may or may not have been delicious_ , _too._

 _Can I cook, or what?_ Michael answered. 

_Gonna start calling you Michael ‘Ina Garten’ Guerin_ , Alex typed back. Michael just sent a winky face. 

With one last fond smile down at his phone screen, Alex took his La Croix into the living room and settled on the couch, flipping on the TV. It was still paused on a Netflix show, some documentary about robotics that Michael must have been watching. Without much consideration, Alex pressed play, picking up from wherever Michael had left off. 

Thirty minutes later, Alex had learned more than he’d ever expected to about robotics, and slipped down into a lounging position on the couch, a throw pillow balled up underneath his head. He shifted so his cheek was pressed against the pillow, and in the process, caught a whiff of something. Brow furrowed, he buried his nose into the fabric and inhaled.

It smelled like rain. It smelled like _Michael_.

Alex sucked in a long, calming breath, then let it out slowly. He hadn’t expected to come home to a house that felt so _lived in_. He hadn’t expected to miss that when it was gone. He and Michael were— friends? Or at least some approximation. Michael had been the natural choice to ask to house-sit, and it was only natural that they’d planned to have lunch together the next day. 

Was it natural for Alex to catch his scent on the air and miss him so much he could barely breathe?

He sighed, thought about all they’d been through. Maybe it was. 

He eyed his phone, then picked it up and typed out a message to Michael. 

_Once you’re finished up with Isobel, come back over?_ Then, before he could second-guess himself: _This place feels more like home when you’re in it._

The buzz of a new message came almost immediately. 

_I’m already on my way_.

Later, as they curled up on the couch together, Alex would breathe in Michael’s scent from where his face was tucked into the curve of his shoulder, and wonder how he’d ever felt like home could be anywhere else.

Much later, as their legs twined together underneath the sheets in Alex’s bed, Michael would admit that the whole time he’d been staying at the house, it had felt like he was waiting for Alex to come back home to him.

Much, much later, Alex would ask Michael to move in with him, clearing out space in cabinets and closets and watching as Michael towed the Airstream into the empty space beside the house. As Michael approached the threshold, Alex would reach out and pull him into a long, slow kiss, breathing in the scent of rain and breathing out the words _welcome home._

**Author's Note:**

> Want to hang out on tumblr? I'm [unbreakablejemmasimmons](https://unbreakablejemmasimmons.tumblr.com/) over there!


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